


peace, just for tonight

by Gondolin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Blanket Permission, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Slice of Life, plots are for other people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27248935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gondolin/pseuds/Gondolin
Summary: Anakin wants to spend time with his two favourite people. Rex and Padmé are getting to know each other.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 90





	peace, just for tonight

The air inside 79s is always too hot, subpar air filters never quite keeping up with the mass of bodies confined into the small space. If the season allows it, people spill out onto the balcony, the low beats of the music reaching even outside.

Rex stopped noticing the smell of spilled liquor and sweat after less than ten minutes inside. The heat, however, is starting to get to him. But maybe that’s justthe drinks. Or Anakin plastered against his side, warmth bleeding in through his uniform jacket.

There have been a few curious glances in their direction, natborn officers and Jetii being uncommon sights at 79s, but Anakin is with him and no one openly questions them. Jesse had winked at him from the table he shared with Kix, before going back to his own drink.

Anakin’s hair is tickling his neck, and Rex looks down at where his cyare is slumped against his shoulder.

“I might have had one too many,” Anakin admits, lifting his empty glass and giving a half shrug, somehow without dislodging himself from Rex’s shoulder. “Everything is spinning and I think I’m hearing more of people’s thoughts than I should.”

Rex knows that no Jedi, not even Anakin, can read thoughts piecemeal, like a written text or an overheard conversation. But Anakin is highly sensitive to feelings, attuned to perceiving changing moods or absorbing strong images or sensations, and Rex understands the shorthand. When he is tired or, like in this case, drunk, filtering out the noise of the world becomes harder.

“Let’s get you home, then,” Rex says. 

He might have hoped for a longer night, but they are coming from a long, thankless, bloody campaign, and he understands better than most the need of numbing it all down, even just for a moment. Anakin has had to carry him back to the barracks a few times before, and Rex is ready to return the favour. He puts a hand on Anakin’s neck, steady, comforting.

“Do you…” Anakin starts, then mumbles something inaudible.

Rex gives him time to collect his thoughts.

“You know I love you, right?” Anakin says after a moment, pushing himself upright to look Rex in the eye.

“Should I be worried?” Rex jokes, ignoring the flutter of joy he always, always feels at those words.

Anakin pouts, and Rex can’t help but kiss that insufferable, beautiful mouth.

“Do you, I mean, would you. Do you want to come to Padmé’s? I really miss her, but I don’t want to be without you.”

Rex hesitates. He hasn’t spent that much time with the Senator. They had a near-death experience together with the blue shadow virus, which had led to awkward confessions and a renewed mutual respect, but that was the extent. Despite sharing something incredibly important and precious, they aren’t exactly close. Rex doesn’t know exactly how she feels, but he often fears overstepping, and he makes a conscious effort not to monopolise Anakin’s time when they are on leave. 

“Are you sure she’d be okay with this?” Rex doesn’t know if he means the late hour, the last minute call, or his own presence in her house.

Colour rises even more on Anakin’s cheeks. “She said… she offered. She wasn’t sure you wanted to and didn’t want to pressure you, but… And I felt so awkward! I love you both so much, but I don’t know if…” he makes a vague gesture that adds absolutely nothing to his babbling, but somehow, Rex understands him.

It is, in a way, like inviting Anakin to 79s. Rex loves his brothers, and he wants Anakin to spend time with him in one of the places where he gets to be himself. But there is friction. Anakin isn’t exactly part of that world, much like Rex isn’t part of Amidala’s. He worries for a moment about what they are going to do after the war - if they both… No, he isn’t going to go there.

“Let’s give her a call and see if she wants to deal with your drunk ass, or I’m dropping you on Kenobi’s doorstep and washing my hands of you,” Rex says, a little more gruffly than he intends. But Anakin is smiling at him like he hung the moon and stars.

They hobble outside, leaning on each other, and find a corner where they won’t be overheard to make the call. 

“Ani!” Padmé says with a bright smile that makes her look so young. Or maybe just like herself, instead of the ageless effigy she presents to the world.

Her smile doesn’t dim when she sees Rex, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Captain. Is Anakin being a nuisance?”

“Hey, I resent that! I am a kriffing delight to be around!”

Padmé and Rex laugh at him, but fondly and without malice, and Anakin sighs, tragic and put upon.

“Once you two have finished laughing at me… Padmé, would you… can we…”

She comes to his rescue. “Would you like to come over? Both of you?”

-

Padmé is waiting for them at the door - Rex notices not even her protocol droid is around, and he appreciates the discretion. He’s sure there must be at least one guard somewhere on this floor, but they are alone in the apartment.

Anakin bends down to kiss Padmé. He’s tall, and he needs to angle down to kiss Rex too, but Padmé is surprisingly tiny up close. She has such a large presence, it’s easier to forget her actual height. Rex wonders idly how it feels, to be so visible and yet so invisible.

He can see her lips curl up, smiling into the kiss, her eyes blissfully close. Anakin tangles a hand into her hair, cascading freely down her back, unconstrained by headpieces or jewels, and Rex realises the level of trust she is showcasing by receiving him like this - not as Senator Amidala, but just Padmé, without her own form of armour and armour-paints.

“Come on,” she says after a moment, lips red and well-kissed, and takes them to the living room. 

They all sit on a large sofa, Anakin between them looking pleased and a little nervous. Rex can relate.

Padmé offers them drinks and asks about their plans for their leave. She does not ask about the fighting, the campaign they just left behind. She does not ask about where they will be assigned next. Their conversation stays in the small confines of a few days of dirtside leave, and it’s surprisingly comforting. Rex tries to imagine them into a bubble, the galaxy outside nothing but a muted memory.

“You with us, Rex?” Anakin asks him.

He is still staring into his glass of muja juice. “Mh?”

Then he realises the other two had stopped talking and raises his eyes. “Sorry. I was just thinking… It’s nothing.”

It’s stupid, he thinks. The bubble bursts, the outside world filters back in. It’s all well and good to enjoy leave, but this it all this is: a moment respite, a parenthesis in a history of war. Rex knows no other life and maybe he never will.

Anakin takes his hand and just holds it, waiting in silence. Padmé peers over at him, frowning. “Would you like to talk,” she asks, “Or to be left alone? Or do you want to talk just with Anakin?”

She disentangles herself from Anakin and is about to stand up, when Rex stops her. “No, no. I’m not about to… this is your house. I’m not going to kick you out from your own living room. Maybe I should go.”

Anakin’s fingers tighten around his, but before he can say a word, Padmé is standing in front of him. “Rex. I hope we will be friends, one day, but I can’t presume to know you yet, and I have no right to your every thought. Please. Let me give you some space.”

There is vice around Rex’s throat and he can only nod. He watches her go, her ridiculously long, impractical blue robe trailing after her, and he almost calls her back. He wants her to know how he feels.

But he isn’t sure she would understand, and he isn’t ready to risk it yet. So he spills his heart to Anakin, who is ready to receive it all. Anakin always promises they will both see the end of the war, and sometimes Rex gets angry at him for that. Anakin isn’t babying him, he truly believes that, but Rex can’t always accept the weight of that hope. But tonight, he rests his forehead against Anakin’s chest, and lets him caress his head, his back, and talk of peace.

“I will keep you safe. I will keep you all safe,” Anakin promises, bright and impossible, and Rex believes him.

Padmé comes back after a while with hot chocolate and cookies. They eat and drink and Padmé gets a cream moustache and does a frighteningly accurate imitation of Admiral Yularen that makes Anakin laugh until there are tears in his eyes. Rex, who is maybe still a little bit tipsy, does Obi-Wan. Padmé is gasping for air and accusing him of having a recording of Master Kenobi hidden somewhere.

“I’ve just been present for many of General Kenobi’s lectures. Somehow,” he side eyes Anakin, “Someone always ends up prompting them.”

“I am a victim!” Anakin says, and keep laughing.

It gets late enough that the conversation slows down and they are all yawning more than they are talking, and Rex thinks it’s time to go.

“You should stay, Rex. Stay until breakfast. Mon brought me a giant box of chandrillan spiced chocolate pastries that I will never be able to finish on my own. Unless of course you’ll be needed too early tomorrow?”

Rex can see through the flimsi thin excuse, and he appreciates the easy way out. Which he should take. He should go and leave Anakin alone with his wife. He should go back to the barracks in case he was needed. Should, should, should.

“I would love to,” his traitorous voice says, lower and more uncertain than he has ever sounded. “Stay, I mean.”

“I’ll go find some spare sleeping clothes,” Anakin offers helpfully, then winks - winks! the shameless flirt - at him, “I’m sure you won’t mind to wear mine for a night.”

Padmé looks between them, the faintest pink colouring her cheeks. “I’ll show you to the guest room,” she says, standing up and beckoning him to follow.

The guestroom is, as expected, far bigger than necessary and with its own attached fresher. 

When Anakin fails to come back, Padmé goes in search of him. Rex hears a faint laughter, and Padmé reappears with some folded clothes. “He passed out face down on the bed.”

She hands him the clothes and her small, soft hand touches his. He smiles at her and wishes her goodnight.

And it is. For tonight, still, they are at peace.


End file.
